


Sapling

by elementarydearmy



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementarydearmy/pseuds/elementarydearmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little girl from Zatochek meets the strange woman of the woods, a mythical warrior queen, and learns what it really means to be brave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sapling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OperaOtaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaOtaku/gifts).



> A very big thank you to my beta ancarett who puts up with all my writing and my endless story/summary/title brainstorming.

 

            It was a warm harvest day and the sun shone brightly over Zatochek. The village bustled as people went about their midday business, light and carefree themselves in the unusually mild weather. It was a very different Zatochek from days gone by. Giving one of their daughters to the fabled Dragon was a long-forgotten tradition, and the stories of the woods as a dark and creeping entity were just that: stories. No one remembered the names Agnieszka and Kasia, or what they had done once upon a time. It was a quiet time, but a happy one.

            Sylwia was one of the villagers that day in Zatochek, though she was still too young to have much business to being doing at midday. She and the few other children who were not yet old enough to work were taking advantage of the noonday sun to play at the cool edges of the Spindle.

            “I am going to be the warrior queen!” Marzena shouted waving about a long branch in the air. “And this shall be my sword.”

            Sylwia frowned from where she sat with her toes dipped into the waters at the bank of the river. “I thought I would get to be the warrior queen this time.”

            Marzena dashed over to her, water splashing up around her legs with each step. She stopped in front of Sylwia and held out her ‘sword’ as an offering.

            “We could both be the warrior queen this time.” Marzena said.

            Sylwia smiled at this. Marzena was her dearest friend, and although she was far more outgoing and popular amongst the other children than Sylwia was, she still always chose to play with Sylwia over everyone else. Sylwia reached out and grasped the proffered branch, and gave the imaginary weapon a cursory swipe. 

            “You can’t both be warrior queens!” Ulryk said. He was the oldest of the boys and because of his age he felt it was his rightest to be the meanest. “Everyone knows there is only one warrior queen. That means Sylwia has to be Baba Jaga!”

            All the children except Marzena broke out into giggles at that. Sylwia felt her face heat up and her hand clenched around the branch.

            “No I don’t!” Sylwia yelled.

            Ulryk grinned, and Sylwia realized her mistake too late. Ulryk was always happiest when he got a rise out of one of the other children. Sylwia, who was always quick with her temper, was one of his favourite targets. He pointed at Sylwia, and in a loud voice meant to draw attention started chanting Baba Jaga. The other children were quick to join, laughing in between the words.

            “I am not!” Sylwia shrieked racing toward Ulryk.

            The older boy cackled and ran away, “No get the witch away from me, she’s probably catching.”

            The other children scattered, shrieking as Sylwia ran in between them. The chants of ‘Baba Jaga’ came at her from every side, sometimes accompanied by a shove or a pull of her braid. Her eyes burned, and Sylwia bit her lip in attempt to force herself not to cry. She did not want to be Baba Jaga and a baby.

            Her attention was drawn away however when she felt someone pull the stick from her hand. Sylwia leapt back, afraid that one of the other children meant to smack her with it, but was startled to see that Marzena had grabbed it and was charging at Ulryk full tilt.

            The blonde girl, who probably only came up to Ulryk’s nose, raised the branch above her head, and brought it down with all her might onto Ulryk’s face. For a moment all the children fell dead silent, before Ulryk cried out and brought his hands up to his nose.   Marzena looked over her shoulder and shared a grin with Sylwia

            “I’m bleeding!” He cried as he glared up at Marzena and Sylwia. “I’m going to tell my mum on you.”

            Still clutching his hands to his dripping nose, her turned away from the Spindle and raced up towards the village. The other children were quick to follow, careful to give both Sylwia and Marzena a wide berth.

            When all the other children had cleared out, Marzena tossed the branch back to Sylwia, “Now we can both be the warrior queen,” she said.

            Sylwia let the branch hang limp in her grip and drag against the ground, behind her the steady flow of water down the Spindle quietly gurgled along.

“I don’t think I want to play anymore,” Sylwia finally said, her voice muted and her expression downcast.

            “Why not?” Marzena asked.

            Sylwia shrugged and sat down on the river’s bank, uncaring of the mud dirtying up her skirt, even though she knew her mother would berate her for it later. Marzena came over and took a seat next to Sylwia, frowning at her friend.

            “Is it because of what Ulryk said? Because it’s not true you know, you’re not like Baba Jaga at all.”

            Sylwia sighed, “But what if I am? I’m not brave like the warrior queen; you’re much better at that than I am.”

            Marzena shook her head, “Well you’re also not a witch who eats naughty children who go into her woods, either. And anyways, I’m not really brave. My mum just says I act before I think and that’s why I do all these things. I’m not smart like you; you think about what you’re gong to do first.”

            “I guess. But I still wish that I could be like the warrior queen. She fought a whole army all by herself to save a prince and princess. Stuff like that comes from being brave not from being smart,” Sylwia said wistfully.

Her gaze turned from Marzena to gaze down the Spindle where the water disappeared into the thick tree line of the woods. At this time of the year the leaves on the tall trees were beginning to turn into vibrant reds and golds at the ends of the overarching branches. Beneath the canopy the dark tree trunks were clustered tightly together, and it was hard to see anything even a dozen paces into the woods’ depth.

Although the woods weren’t particularly dangerous, Sylwia had never been allowed to venture far into their depths lest she get lost. She could remember her mother warning her against the temptation of adventuring into it when she was very young.

“Don’t go into the woods, Sylwia,” she would say, “or Baba Jaga may get you.”

            That had deterred Sylwia when she was younger, but now the dark tree line seemed to be calling to Sylwia, daring her to cross into its depths. It was then that an idea, sudden and compelling, struck Sylwia.

            “I know how to prove I’m brave,” Sylwia said, leaping to her feet.

            She can began picking her way down the length of the Spindle towards the woods. Marzena jumped up behind her and quickly followed, her forehead scrunched in confusion.

            “How?” the other girl called.

            Sylwia ignored her question and dashed across the bridge over the Spindle. She passed by the grand tree that perched precariously next to the bridge, its branches bent under the weight of dozens of ripe golden fruits. She marched right up to the woods’ edge, until she was standing no more than a stone’s throw away from the tree line.

            Sylwia gestured to the tree line, “I’ll go into the woods, and have an adventure like the warrior queen. I cannot wait to see Ulryk’s stupid face when he hears about this.”

            Marzena looked aghast, “Sylwia, you shouldn’t. What if you get lost? Or worse, what if you are discovered by Baba Jaga in her woods?”

            Sylwia shook her head and took her friend’s hand. “I won’t go far. Just a little ways in, to see what’s there.” She gave Marzena’s hand a comforting squeeze, “I promise it will just be a minute.”

            Sylwia took a step forward and passed the first line of trees, conscious of the sudden darkness overhead caused by the giddily elevated forest canopy. The little light that did get through was the autumn tones of the leaves, casting the forest floor in a mosaic of reds and yellows.

“Sylwia, wait!”

            The call seemed impossibly distant, and Sylwia turned back to comfort her friend, but found she could no longer see where she had passed through the tree line. In fact, she found Sylwia could no longer see anything but the woods themselves.

She turned uncertainly, for the first time suddenly realizing the brazenness of her idea. She couldn’t see any sign of Zatochek through the trees, and with a sinking feeling, Sylwia realized that she couldn’t even hear the familiar gurgle of the Spindle.

            “Marzena?” she called.

            The word seemed to hang thickly in the air around her, impossibly soft in the vastness of space. No reply came.

            Sylwia turned and raced back the way she was certain she had come, but after a long few minutes of stumbling along she didn’t seem to find herself any closer to the village than when she had started.

            “Marzena!”

            She was met with nothing but silence.

 

***

            Sylwia didn’t know how long she had been wandering the woods. It felt like hours since she had seen her friend, but the more walking she did, the less distance she seemed to cover. The trees stretched far into the distance in every direction around her, and she felt her eyes well in frustration.

            When her legs could carry her no more, she sat down on one of the tree’s massive roots and wept. She wasn’t brave for going into the woods; brave was standing up for others like the warrior queen or Marzena, What she had done was just foolish.

            Distantly the sound of a branch snapping broke the woods’ eerie silence. Sylwia leapt to her feet and swung around. There was no more noise, but Sylwia could almost feel the gaze of something watching her.

            “Hello? Marzena? Is that you?” She asked into the darkness.

            Sylwia waited for a long moment, but again there was nothing. She hiccoughed out a sob quietly and moved to sit back down, certain that she had imagined the noise, when she heard something rustle behind her.

            Sylwia whipped around and let out a scream at the creature that stood behind her. It was a giant thing, with a long, narrow face and dark eyes, its body supported on long, stiff-seeming legs that were taller than Sylvia herself. It jumped back at her scream, and raised shorter forelegs up in front of itself at the sudden noise.

            Sylwia tried to move away herself, but stumbled over one of the tree’s many long roots. She scuttled back on her hands and feet, still screaming, but the creature made no move to follow, looking as appalled by her as she was by it.

            “What is going on?” a woman’s voice demanded.

            Both Sylwia and the creature’s face whipped towards the source of the voice, which appeared to be young woman making her way through the trees from the same direction the creature had appeared.

            Of all the women Sylwia had ever seen, this one was perhaps the strangest. Her feet were bare and caked with dirt, as were the majority of her skirts. Her dark hair formed a halo of tangles around her face, which, while not beautiful, seemed to be open and kind, if somewhat confused.

            Sylwia willed words to form, but all that came out of her mouth was a strangled whimper as her gaze darted back to the creature before her. It was still looking at the woman, and it reached out one foreleg as if to gesture at Sylwia.

            The woman nodded at the thing, “Yes, I see. Thank you for finding her.” She said. She then pulled forth a basket spilling over with ripe golden fruit, and reached out to hand one to the creature. It accepted it readily, and then turned away from Sylwia and disappeared back between the trees father into the woods.

            Sylwia stared after the creature until she could no longer see its form in the distance before letting her attention turn back to the woman. The creature had listened to the woman, and Sylwia felt the fear well back up in her again. This woman must be some sort of witch, the witch of the woods, she-

            “Are you Baba Jaga?” Sylwia whispered.   

            The woman chuckled and put her basket down, and came forward to crouch in front of Sylwia. “No I’m afraid I’m not Baba Jaga, although this is not the first time I have been mistaken for her.”

            She reached out and offered a hand to Sylwia, who carefully took it and let the woman pull her to her feet. The woman was tall and thin, but she looked down at Sylwia with a kind smile, and Sylwia felt some of the fear dampen down in her chest.

            “Than who are you?” Sylwia asked.

            “My name is Agnieszka and I’m no Baba Jaga, that is for certain. She was much more powerful than I am! No, I only do what I can in her stead to take care of the Woods” she said. Finished with her reassuring speech, the tall woman picked her basket back up from the forest floor. She pulled out a fruit and took a large bite. Sweet-smelling juice spilled forth from the fruit’s golden skin, and Sylwia heard her stomach give a loud rumble at the scent.

            Agnieszka held out the basket in offering and Sylwia hastily brought a fruit to her own mouth and gobbled it down. Agnieszka laughed at the sight, and offered a second helping to follow the first.

            “May I ask what is your name as well?” Agnieszka asked when Sylwia swallowed her last mouthful.

            “Sylwia.” She replied shyly.

            Agnieszka held out her free hand to Sylwia. After a moment’s hesitation, the girl took it and began to follow the woman as she led them with certainty through the trees.

            “And how did you get so far into the woods Sylwia?”

            “I didn’t mean to,” Sylwia defended her reckless venture. “I meant to just go a few steps, but when I turned to go back, I couldn’t see the village anymore.”     

            “That is the difficulty with the woods. It is kinder now, and while it doesn’t wish you any harm, there is still far too much magic tied up in these trees for little girls to safely wander through them. It easy to get lost in these trees, if you do not have a strong enough will to get back,” Agnieszka said, which confused Sylwia but she didn’t say so, from fear of appearing silly to this woman whose good opinion she felt must be valuable.

            “What village did you come from? I will be able to take you back there, after I drop these,” Agnieszka raised the basket of fruits, “off at my home. If I leave them unattended, the walkers have a tendency of getting into them.”

            “I’m from Zatochek, it’s right on the edge of the woods. The Spindle runs right by it,” Sylwia said. She noticed that Agnieszka’s brows flew up in surprise at the name of the village, but she made no further comment on it.

            Ahead of them through the tree trunks a small house came into view. It took Sylwia a moment to realize that the little cottage was not a free-standing structure, but grew out of an ancient old oak tree, in a shape that could Sylwia could not believe had grown naturally.

            Agnieszka led them right up to it, putting some of the fruit in a little groove formed by the oak’s roots near the door, and taking the rest of them with her inside. It was not a large space; it had a bed and a few chairs to sit at around a small table. A few shelves lined the wall and they were stuffed with old, thick books, the only things in the space that didn’t appear as if they had grown out of the tree itself. Even the floor itself was soft springy moss, seemingly grown on out of the forest’s floor itself.       

            “Back already, Nieshka?”

            A pretty blonde woman appeared out of the wall, in what Sylwia realized was some sort of reading nook formed into the wood itself. Her hair was swept into a long braid that hung down over one shoulder, and her warm brown eyes seemed to match her smile that she gave to Agneiszka.

            “And brought a guest I see?”

            The blonde woman moved and crouched in front of Sylwia, similar to the way that Agnieszka had earlier. She offered out a hand, and Sylwia tentatively met her grip to shake it. Her flesh wasn’t as soft as Agnieszka’s had been; in fact it was hard as if it, like the cottage, was carved from wood.

            “Well met…”

            “Sylwia.”

            “Well met Sylwia, my name is Kasia. I am a good friend of Nieshka here.”

            “Sylwia has found her way here from Zatochek,” Agnieszka said, and the two women exchanged a long look at that word, “and I promised that I would take her back home.”

            There was a heavy moment of silence that Sylwia did not understand, before Kasia broke it with a sigh.  

            “I may join you. After all, it has been many years since I’ve been to Zatochek.”

            Sylwia frowned, for there seemed to be a heavy meaning attached to the words that she did not understand. Agnieszka finally nodded and then ushered Sylwia back towards the door. As they moved to leave the cottage, a sheathed sword, leaning by the door, that she hadn’t noticed before caught the girl’s attention.

            “Is that yours?” Sylwia asked, gesturing to the weapon and looking up questioningly at Agneiszka.

            “No, that is mine,” Kasia said, plucking up the weapon. She strapped the sword across her back and smiled down at the abruptly awestruck Sylwia.

            “So you’re a warrior?” Sylwia asked.

            Both Kasia and Agnieszka laughed. “Of sorts, yes,” Kasia said.

            Sudden excitement bloomed in Sylwia’s chest. Kasia was blonde and kind, and she carried a sword, just like all the stories said. She was deep in the woods, where only brave people would dare to go, and to Sylwia this could only mean one thing. Her mind raced through all the stories of the brave warrior queen, who had fought armies singlehandedly and been the champion of kings of ages passed.

            “Are you the warrior queen? From the stories?”

            Kasia shrugged, “People called me that, mistakenly, a long time ago. But I was never actually a queen, that is where the stories are wrong.”

            Sylwia’s face split into a grin. Forget going into the wood; wait until the other children heard that she’d met the actual warrior queen! She trailed after Kasia as Agnieszka put away her basket and closed the small cottage’s door behind them.

            “Were you really the best jouster in the capital? Did you really lift a grown man over your head? Did you really beat an entire army with only your bare hands?” The questions bubbled out of Sylwia faster than she could think and both women laughed.

            “The answers to those are no, yes, quite a few times, and also no. Do they really tell all these stories about me?” Kasia chuckled, obviously amused at the thought.

            “Yes, and more. You’re the bravest woman in the kingdom, everyone knows,” Sylwia said excitedly. At that, Kasia frowned and Sylwia suddenly worried if she had done something wrong.

            Kasia stepped forward and knelt down so that she was looking straight into Sylwia’s eyes. “Now I want you to listen very closely and be sure to remember this. The bravest woman in the kingdom is standing right there,” she pointed at Agnieszka who looked particularly uncomfortable with the praise, “Agnieszka has saved this kingdom and many others besides more times than I can count, and no one even knows it. If there is anyone you should tell stories about, it should be her.”

            Sylwia looked back and forth at the two women, Agnieszka with her tangled dark hair, and her dirty torn clothes, compared to Kasia with her long blonde locks, well-kept appearance and sword strapped across her back. She leaned forward to Kasia, cupping her hands to Kasia’s ear to whisper in her ear.

            “Really?” she asked.

            Sylwia drew back and watched Kasia nod solemnly. “Really.”

            “Enough talking about me,” Agnieszka huffed. “We’ll want to get going soon. Even with Baba Jaga’s walking spell we might not make it back to Zatochek by nightfall.”

            “I thought you said you weren’t Baba Jaga?” Sylwia accused, frowning up at Agnieszka.

            Agnieszka’s lips quirked, “I’m not, I just borrow some of her spells from time to time.”

            Agnieszka came forward. She grabbed first Kasia’s hand, than Sylwia’s and began to lead them forward. She mumbled a few strange words under her breath and suddenly the forest floor seemed to be flying underneath them. In just four steps, they covered what must have been acres of the wood, until they stood just before the tree line leading to Zatochek.  Distantly Sylwia could hear voices calling her name, and the trampling of feet of many people walking about.

            “It would seem they are looking for you. Best get back to them before they worry anymore,” Agnieszka said, gently pressing Sylwia in the direction of the village.

            “I thought you were going to come with me,” Sylwia said disappointedly, “I’m sure everyone will want to meet you.”

            “I’m sorry Sylwia, but we can’t visit today,” Agnieszka said sadly. She looked over Sylwia’s head towards Zatochek with a gaze filled with longing.

            “It’s too late for us to go there now,” Kasia said, and Sylwia suddenly realized that the lack of light around them no longer came from the thick canopy of the wood but, instead, from the dark skies above it.

            “But it’s night time,” Sylwia protested. “Where are you going to go?”

            “Just like you, we will be returning home. It is long past time that we should all be in bed,” Kasia said and gave Sylwia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

            “Yes, and I have a Dragon I must go tame before I can sleep,” Agnieszka said, which caused Kasia to snort with laughter, even though Sylwia didn’t understand the joke.

            “You tame dragons?” Sylwia gasped.

            “Just the one. He can be quite the handful,” Agnieszka said as she gently propelled Sylwia towards the muffled commotion. “Now off you go. Good night, Sylwia. It was nice to meet you.”

            They waved as she passed through the tree line, back into the open fields that surrounded the village. Sylwia waved back, her eyes not leaving the two women until someone shouted her name.

            Big arms came around her and scooped her up. Sylwia found herself being held tightly by her father who was smiling although tears streamed down his face.     

            “She’s alive!” He yelled back to the other villagers who were scouring the forest’s edge, “She’s safe!”

            Her mother ran towards them and grabbed Sylwia’s face. She peppered it with kisses, sobbing as she did so. Even Sylwia’s older brothers, who usually complained about their little sister, stumbled eagerly over. They both looked pale but relieved.       

            “Don’t you ever do that again Sylwia,” Her mother cried. “Never, ever do that to us again.”

            “I won’t mama, I promise,” Sylwia said. “But you will never guess what happened. I met the golden warrior queen and a witch named Agnieszka who lives in the woods. They saved me and brought me home, but they couldn’t stay to visit because it was too late.”

            Her parents laughed, and hugged her more tightly, “Well, next time they come by we’ll have to thank them.” her mother said, as they walked back towards home, “But now is not a time for any more stories. It’s long past your bedtime and its time we all got a bit of sleep.”

 

***

 

            Agnieszka found Sarkan in the library, pouring over an old text with a scowl on his face even as his finger trailed along the page of some ancient text. He ignored her presence for a few minutes, but Agnieszka had long grown used to his stubborn tendencies. She too grabbed a book to read until he could be enticed away from his studies. When he did look up from the book at her his nose wrinkled in distaste.

            “You have lived countless mortal lives and yet you still cannot be bothered to wear shoes in the wood?” he demanded, eyeing her feet, which were nearly black with dirt.

            Agnieszka grinned as she flexed one foot and wiggled her toes, just to annoy him. “The magic works better when I’m directly touching the earth.”

            He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Of course it does.”

            “I found a girl from Zatochek lost in the woods today. Do you know they still call me Baba Jaga?”

            Sarkan snorted, “Well you certainly look like her at the moment.”

            Agnieszka stood, whispered _Vanastalem,_ and the dirt dissolved from her skin. The ripped plain dress she wore transformed into another rather plain, but complete and clean dress.

            “Better?”       

            “You could be wearing anything money could buy,” Sarkan said, “and yet you still insist on wearing a plain frock.”

            “It wastes my magic to put all that effort into something as inconsequential as a dress.”      

            “It’s a waste of your talent not to.”

            Agnieszka stepped forward and leant across the desk Sarkan had been working at, a smirk spreading across her face. “I could always just take it off, if it is bothering you so.” She watched as his eyes darkened and a flush rose to his cheeks.

            He shook his head and blinked hard. Leaning back, he said, “Perhaps later, right now I really must finish trying to translate this text while I still have a firm grasp of it in my mind.”

            Agnieszka snickered, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and trailed her hand along his arm as she walked back towards the door.

            Just as she was about to turn down the hall, he called out, “Did she say anything about me?”

            She popped her head back into the room, where Sarkan had appeared to move back to his work deciphering the text, but he was holding himself very still in apprehension.  

            “Who?” She asked,

            “The girl,” he said, “from Zatochek. Did they have any stories about me?”

            Agnieszka let out a breath and smiled fondly at him, even though he could not see. “No, she did not mention you at all. They don’t appear to tell stories of the Dragon anymore.”

            The tense strain of his shoulders relaxed, “Good, that’s good. Everything has been so much nicer since I’ve had my privacy.”

            “Of course,” Agnieszka said and turned back down the hall.

            “I’ll be up to bed shortly,” he called after her.

            “I’ll be waiting,” she replied.

 

           

           

           

 

 

 

           


End file.
